


Won't you lay your healing hands on my chest?

by SomewhatByronically



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adding in Adaar to the mix, Established Adoribull, Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation, Varric is done with their gay bullshit, happy ending even if there is minor angst and feels, we'll see how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8139199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhatByronically/pseuds/SomewhatByronically
Summary: “You liiike him.”  Bull stated again, emphasis falling to insinuate that Dorian must have some sort of novice's crush.Dorian blushed, which likely lent no credence to his reply, “I do not!”~~~The working title for this fic was "tfw poly" so I feel like that sums it up p well.The title is from Send Them Off! by Bastille because I am an actual trash hipster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iodhadh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iodhadh/gifts).



> This was super fun to write??? I would love to continue this??? But we'll see because my life has been eaten by the demon named Engineering School.

"You like him don't you?"

Dorian started, looking up. Normally, the sun would be shining in his eyes, but Bull blocked it out with his bulk, not helping at all to assuage the guilty feeling now slithering down his throat. “What?"

Bull huffed a quiet laugh and turned to look where Dorian’s eyes had been previously resting. At this, Dorian looked back too; it was their heroic inquisitor. Breathing hard but standing tall with a few sections of grey hair falling out of his plait and the black smeared off his lips and across his cheek. He was drilling with Cullen’s soldiers on how to defend against contact magic. It wasn’t going so well as Arrant preferred said style and had years of practice. It was almost like an elegant dance. Right foot, left foot, right foot, right hand, and then the left would spread frost along the armor that Arrant’s unfortunate (and now theoretically dead) partner was wearing. Arrant was careful but no one really wanted to risk getting frost bitten for the sake of a drill.

“You liiike him.” Bull stated again, emphasis falling to insinuate that Dorian must have some sort of novice's crush.

Dorian blushed, which likely lent no credence to his reply, “I do not!” He looked away and crossed his arms. After a moment Bull drew breath to speak again but Dorian was having none of this. He turned back to Bull, who had obvious mirth dancing in his eyes, “I will see you later.” Letting Bull’s renewed chuckles follow him, he made to return to his perch in the library.

When Dorian was out of earshot, Bull’s laughter slipped silent. It's not that Bull had a problem with Dorian finding Arrant attractive. It was just… Arrant. Bull looked back over where Arrant moved into demonstrating proper blocking techniques with his spirit sword. Keeping the enemy overwhelmed but always staying just outside of reach. Arrant had a sure advantage, longer limbs and all, but not all mages were human and it pays to be prepared; or whatever Cullen kept telling the recruits.

Arrant could almost be considered attractive by Qunari standards. Horns symmetrical; not broken, but marred from battle; spiraling back in an even pattern. Classical dark grey skin with a shock of silver hair contrasting to the darker roots of his horns which matched the black vitaar he favored wearing over his lips. His broad shoulders sloping down to a somewhat trim waist. See, you just had to ignore his strange forest green eyes and the pudge filling out his robes and obscuring the definition of his muscles. Or maybe it was the scars that threw Bull off, or really, Arrant's relative lack thereof.

Bull grunted and looked the other way. No need to be caught staring. Bull might be Tal-Vasoth himself now, but it didn’t mean that he was any closer to solving this particular enigma.

~~~~~~~~~

“Dorian."

Dorian had already known of the Inquisitor’s presence on this particular floor of the tower. How could he not? Loud footfalls echoing as they bounded up the stairs two by two on some errand to Leliana or dropping scales and claws for research heavily upon the desk nearby. Arrant was a… presence, not matter how meekly he held himself in person and how his voice was more rumbly bass than actual audible sound. Dorian looked up now at the man himself. His plait redone and vitaar wiped away. “Inquisitor."

“Your love of the dragons in the Hissing Wastes came to mind when Cullen informed me of an assignment in the region."

Dorian harrumphed his displeasure at the prospect before crossing his arms. “At least it’s a godly temperature. Should I tell Bull to pack? And Varric for that matter?"

“Changed your mind about the dragons now, have you?"  
“I find that I... no longer mind them so much."

The smirk that took Arrant's face was insufferable. Dorian harrumphed again, smacking his book down upon the table. "Yes. Quite. I'll go now."

Dorian stomped off in the direction of the tavern where he was sure to find at least one of the former.

"Hey Sparkler!"

Dorian turned around sharply. His off mood causing him to miss the dwarf on his way out of the castle. "What?"

Varric faked a cringe but remained grinning which did nothing to help Dorian's temperament, "When has his Inquisitorialness ever put you in this bad of a mood?"

Dorian couldn't bother to corral his tone, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know, the snark, the insults. There seem to be more than usual, and for you, that's something." Varric's mirth seemed to only grow as he outlined his evidence.

Dorian had not the presence of mind to reply and instead blurted out what could only be imagined as an artful redirect, "Well, we're headed to the Hissing Wastes."

Varric's grin only persisted, "Suit yourself Sparkler."

~~~~~~~~~

Even as Dorian tried to smooth out a particularly stubborn lump of sand beneath his bed roll, the heat that pressed it's way through the canvas of the tent and the thick cotton warmed his bones in a way that Skyhold's stone never did. And while he didn't technically appreciate the accusations of cold-bloodedness, it worked wonders on his reputation. The kerfuffle with Corpheyus may have ended but the Inquisition was still known through Thedas for their ongoing deeds. Word may have even reached his father...

The thought scattered as he heard a yelp from outside of the tent. It was Arrant. Poking his head outside also revealed Varric giggling and Bull failing to look particularly innocent with the remnants of frost magic spread along his chest. Noting the new witness to this indignity, Arrant turned to Dorian, the full weight of his gaze making itself known to Dorian with a blush on both their cheeks.

Arrant's tongue tripped over his words, "Can you control him?"  
Dorian barked out a condescending laugh, “I don’t think a dragon could control our dear friend, he’d probably just kill it."  
Bull narrowed his eyes with his usual raunchy mischief before replying, “Unarmed and bare!"

Varric burst into a new fit of giggles, proper laughter bubbling up as he tried to control himself. Dorian sighed and plastered on a sarcastic grin, glaring at Bull with fake mirth. Bull leveled his eyes towards Dorian and he couldn’t help the hot shiver that raced up his spine. Dorian would gladly buy a round for whichever warm-blooded Tevene that could resist that. Letting alone the predatory look that Bull’s face took when he turned and started stalking toward the tent.

Dorian was enjoying his distraction until a particular short loudmouth made his opinions known, “Keep it down tonight!"  
Dorian slid to the side of the tent flap to let Bull slip in as he yelled out, “That goes for you too Varric!"  
Varric crossed his arms, a knowing twinkle in his eyes, “All’s fair in love and war, Sparkler."

Dorian rolled his eyes before crawling back into the tent. Bull was settled, face towards the wall of the tent, not unusual for the warmer evenings in the Wastes. From experience, he knew that he’d wake up smothered by the oaf’s arms and heat and his unwillingness to admit the freezing temperatures of the desert night.

So Dorian settled himself, bed roll appropriately punished into shape. He summoned a chill to the tips of his fingers and ran them softly along the divot along Bulls’s back, following his spine. “Goodnight Amatus."

Without a reaction, Dorian pressed himself against the heat of the sand and closed his eyes. He was just on the edge of sleep when he heard Bull sigh and roll over heavily. There was enough of a pause that Dorian believed that Bull had just shifted until he spoke quietly into the dark.

“You can have him. And me.” He sighed again. “And him too."

Dorian was instantly awake again. He chose his words carefully, “But I am happy, with you."

Bull growled, just barely a bass rumble in his chest, but there was nothing particularly arousing about the tense air of the moment, “He makes you happy in a different way. And I’m…” Bull paused, “ready… to share."

Dorian noticed the choice of words. This included the finality of his tone, there’s no way Bull was lying. Though, he still didn’t really understand where this was coming from, “I’m with you Amathus and..."

Bull cut him off sharply, “Polyamory is a thing Pavus.” Bull sighed again, “Just… think about it alright?"

Dorian sighed back, “Roll over.” As Bull complied, he summoned frost to his fingers. Normally he would bring them just short of the point of burning, but the desert was quite hot enough without him adding magic fire to the mix. His fingers traced familiar, meditative, paths as they both fell asleep to the sensation of handwritten Tevene romance poetry across Bull’s back.

~~~~~~~~~

Dorian was wandering through the garden of Skyhold trying to clear his mind. He had come across particularly difficult spell theory in his reading and his concentration was failing him. While that problem had fled his mind almost as soon as he stepped onto the verdant lawn, he couldn’t let alone the words that Bull had left him with that evening in the Hissing Wastes. They finished the errand and had been back at Skyhold for almost a week and a half, and while their outward actions failed to indicate otherwise, there was a definite shift in their relationship that Dorian couldn’t put his finger on.

He was about to... “Dorian!” Dorian whipped around to the direction of the voice and jumped found himself with barely half a foot between himself and their heroic Inquisitor. Or, well, his nose and the Inquisitor’s chest. He glanced up sheepishly, a blush rising to his cheekbones.

Arrant laughed, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I—"

Dorian surprised himself as his hands found purchase in the familiar folds of Arrant’s mage robes pulling him down and pushing himself up onto his tiptoes. HIs lips pressed against Arrant’s for a blissful second before it slowly registered that he was tumbling backward.

His magic kicked in, pushing the ground away and keeping him upright. His heart sunk as he brought his gaze back up to Arrant who still had one hand frozen out in front of him and the other covering his mouth. It dropped away and he spoke, “Dorian? You..."

It suddenly clicked for Dorian, Arrant didn’t know. Arrant thought… “Oh no, no. Ah,” Dorian stuttered as his brain tried to supply an explanation, anything to make that awful betrayed look go away, “I… Ah… have permission."

At that, Arrant’s face softened into confusion, “Permission?”  
Dorian blushed again, “Yes, ah, permission, to… court..."  
Arrant face finally broke into a teasing smile, “To court me?"  
Dorian was finally able to relax and find his words again, “Well... not in so many words."

Arrant brought an arm thoughtfully to his face, faux considering the proposition, “Well then… I accept."

Dorian let go of a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. “Well. Good. I—"

This time, the transition was too smooth for Dorian’s surprise, but he found himself dipped in the middle of the garden, and Arrant’s lips upon his own and his thoughts blurring as he went light-headed. Arrant let him back up, wrapping his arms around Dorian and balancing him on his feet. He pulled away from the full-body contact but most certainly remained in Dorian’s personal space.

His voice was husky from the lack of air, “You talk way too much, Dorian."

~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of floating was so strong for the rest of the day that Dorian occasionally reached out to make sure that the top shelves in the library were just as inaccessible as they normally were.  This caused a complete unawareness that was probably why he didn’t notice the sun sinking away from it’s frame in the window or the quiet, albeit never silent, pad of Bull’s footsteps in the library.  Settled in his chair, his tether to reality abruptly tightened as fingers brushed underneath his chin, pulling his gaze away from the book and his mind away from the Tevene poetry swirling through his mind.  They soon filled with the rough and familiar face of a particular Qunari. 

With his eyes softened just so and his mouth pulled into a self-aggrandizing smirk, Dorian supposed that Bull would probably tease him for missing company dinner or gently scold him for letting time run away from him with his head in a book.  It brought him back to the library of his childhood home in a way that plucked at his gut, but it hardly matched the way that his heart would swell.

The tightness in his chest was hardly relieved by the way when, instead of wasting any time with words, Bull ducked down so that their lips met in a chaste kiss that was too sweet to stand.  Kissing Bull was a lot like whiskey, strong, smooth, and not without a bite that would knock you on your ass if you weren’t ready.  But this was intense in a different way, like a first sip of mead; honey and honey and nothing else to distract from the overwhelming sweetness of the moment. 

His hands abandoned the book in his lap and reached up to cradle Bull’s face.  With his arms out of the way, Bull made no qualms about scooping him up bridal style.  Dorian knew that they were moving but didn’t give it much thought even as Bull set him down and crowded him against a door all bulk and filthy words.  Dorian keened as Bull skimmed hands over his hipbones and set his head back against the door, another advantage that Bull was eager to take, but Dorian sobered quickly, hands halting on Bull as he heard footsteps behind the door.

It was then that Dorian noted that they hadn’t turned into the dormitories and that he wasn’t pressed against his own bedroom door.  Bull chuckled at the absolute bafflement on Dorian’s face, the moment more or less ruined.  “You’re the smart one kadan, you figure it out."

The twinkle in Bull’s eye served Dorian no further comfort, and he was just beginning to realize where he had been led when the worst came to pass: the door opened.

Dorian stumbled backwards into a clearly waiting pair of arms whose touch caused the tiniest of shivers on contact.  He shut his eyes tightly as if he could wake up, but when both of the big brutes started to chuckle, he realized that there was really no way to escape this situation.

 Dorian leaped a bit too eagerly away from Arrant’s arms if the put-out whine on Arrant made was anything to go by.  But he couldn’t manage to summon much else than a redness rising to his cheeks as the situation became progressively more mortifying.  Bull wrapped his arms around Dorian, pulling him close and whispering, “I want to watch him take care of you Dorian.”  Dorian whimpered, already overwhelmed by the amount of ardent feeling that had been expressed towards him today.  As Bull pulled back, all he could manage was a weak nod of his head.  Which had another fit of laughter bubbling up Bull’s throat, “No, kadan, I need to _know_ that this is okay."

He could feel Bull’s hands at his back but he feel Arrant’s heat just farther back still, and with the prospect of what was being laid before him, it was all too much to handle.  But damn if he’d say no, “Yes,” he paused for a minute to try and relieve the tightness that had curled around his chest, “This’ll do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Arrant and Bull are little shits. Conniving little shits but it worked out really well for Dorian didn't it? If I ever write the second part I promise there is more relationship negotiation and Bull obviously has a non-romantic thing(tm) with Arrant that needs to be resolved. But I promise that everything in this part is consensual and happy just... Dorian is not the most observant mage in the castle and being kicked out of the one community you have identified with your whole life is not the easiest thing to process. Especially when your boyfriend has a crush on the hot, capable, intelligent, good, confusing af ***mage*** that convinced you that it would be alright.


	2. This is just a picture of his dumb face.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sorry chapter two is a lie. (Cross your fingers for a chapter three???)

 

Did I spend an hour and a half of this project in the character creator?  Maybe I did.  (Also it's a severe fault of mine that I hate putting scars on my protags so if that doesn't do it for you, feel free to imagine him differently.)  Also did I mention that he's pudgy?  Not fat, just pudgy.  Too many desserts and stress eating while saving the world.


End file.
